The Ice Age Games
by mwang
Summary: So, sort of like a hunger games/ice age crossover, but nobody reads crossover fictions so that's why it's here. In a world much like that of Katniss Everdeen's and yet similar to that of the Ice Age franchise, what are the chances of 11 yr. old Peaches surviving the all too familiar Games? Follow her through heartbreak, fear, tragedy, and friendship as she struggles to survive.
1. The Reaping

**Hey, so, this is going to be like a little appetizer while you wait for my other story to you know like get up;dates (i have the chapters written). A little, important thing to know?**

**THIS IS KINDA LIKE A CROSSOVER BETWEEN THE HUNGER GAMES AND ICE AGE ONLY NOT EXACLTY THE SAME.**

**so hunger agmes is owned by suzanne collins i think **

**and ice age by 20th cent. fox**

**anyway, so there's gonna be technology that was obviously not around in the ice age.**

**dont be mad please**

* * *

The Town gathered in the meadow, children separated from their parents. Parents clutched each other, or stared numbly at their child. Other family members who were no longer, or not quite eligible in the reaping stood with the parents, wondering who would be chosen and hoping it would not be that little boy or girl. The members of the herd were among these people, the sub-zero heroes that everyone in this fandom has heard of.

And only one of them was eligible.

Peaches.

But surely she would not be chosen, after all it was her first year, and hardly anyone ever got called on when it was their first year in the reaping.

Now, you're probably all thinking that this is a total copy of Suzanne Collins' _The Hunger Games._ Well, it's a bit different.

We all know that the animals migrated during the winter or late fall, and again in the spring. So after winter had passed, the villages from within a 30 mile radius would merge to form a Town, and meet in the designated Town square. Their representative (Zinnia Huffle, for the Town in which the herd was in) from the Head (equivalent of the Capitol, only not quite so techno-awesome) chose four Offerings (like a tribute)—two males and two females—between the ages of eleven and eighteen. They would go to the arena, and fight to the death: only two victors, and they could not be from the same district.

There were 10 Towns—forty Offerings in all. The Town that we are talking about right now was Town 10, and for the Head they produced cotton.

Since meeting the herd, Buck had visited them annually in the week of the Reaping. He had been raised in Town One, which was known for growing crops, mostly orchards. Since One was close to the Head, Buck shared the same funny accent as those from the Head, and thus got dirty looks from people from time to time. He didn't let it bother him. After all, he despised the Games himself.

And he should, since both he and his sister had been chosen in the same year.

As Zinnia began her usual speech, Ellie clutched Manny, both of them silently praying that Peaches would be spared.

Futile prayers.

"Ladies first!" the beaver cried. Zinnia reached into the bowl for girls, and fished out two small leaves on which names were scrawled.

She grinned from ear to ear, the paint on her fur emphasizing this all the more.

"Aliah Creston. Mink."

A terrified redheaded teenaged mink stumbled up the stage.

Crash and Eddie allowed themselves to release the breath they had been holding, only to draw it back in sharply.

"Peaches Mammoston. Mammoth."

Ellie and Manny watched helplessly as the small mammoth walked numbly up the stage. One thought that all of the herd shared: Peaches would not survive.

"And now, the gentlemen!" A hush fell through the crowd once more.

"Jeremy Sargento. Sloth." A sickly looking, blond sloth stepped forward.

And finally, "Caesar Crane. Saber-toothed Tiger."

It was then that Ellie burst into tears. Her hopes for her daughter's survival were shattered.

* * *

Each member of the weird family said their good-byes in private. Manny and Ellie's were mostly hugging and crying, as were Crash and Eddie's. Sid's was just crying and telling Peaches to try to win for him. So it was no wonder that the insane weasel's goodbye and Diego's, too, would prove to be the only ones that would help her survive.

As Peaches fought tears, Buck held her trunk and met her eyes.

"Stay hidden. Don't make yourself seem dangerous. Any threat will be the first to be killed. On the other hand, too weak and you'll be killed too. Crash and Eddie taught you how to climb trees. Make use of that. Peaches," he said her name sadly. "Peaches, do us all a favor. Don't die. At the very least, don't go down without a fight, okay, mate?" She sniffed. "Okay." "Goodbye, lass." "Goodbye, Uncle."

Diego sat in silence, the two of them just looking at each other. When there was five minutes left of time to say goodbye, he said, "Do what you can to drown out your scent, and cover your tracks. Find your enemy's weaknesses and use them to your advantage. An ally could be useful." He hugged her, willing himself not to cry. "Goodbye," he whispered. "Goodbye, Tigey Wigey," she said softly, remembering Sid's old nickname for him. The Sentinels drove him out then, and loaded the Offerings of Ten onto the train.

* * *

Hopefully that wasn't too bad. PLease feel free to review.


	2. The ReRuns

**And chapter two! Yeah so if any of ye are waitin for me to like update my other story dont worry it should be done by june. I have like 3 chapters written but sadly would rather write this that type up that story.**

**So, there is chapter_ dos_. that means two in spanish, though i am unsure if I spelled that right...**

**SO in this chapter it like when they're on the train and stuff and watching the other ppls get chosen...yeah. **

**hunger games and ice age not owned by me.**

**some of the species you may encounter (thank you, ):  
****DINICTIS**  
Dinictis was a small, primitive cat from the Oligocene (about 40 million years ago). This extinct, sabertooth cat had a sleek body, short legs, powerfully-muscular jaws, a small brain (in a 7 in), large canine teeth, and a long tail. Dinictis was plantigrade, walking in a flat-footed manner (unlike modern cats, which are probably much faster,digitigrade, walking on their toes). Dinictis, like modern cats, had three eyelids, the third one being a nictitating membrane (or haw). Dinictis evolved into pseudailurus, which was more like modern-day cats. Dinictis was very similar to Hoplophoneus (the ancestor of smilodon) except the canine teeth were less exaggerated. Dinictis may have preyed upon Indricotherium.  
**CAVE LION**  
The cave lion (_Panthera leo spelaea_) was probably the biggest lion that ever lived. It was 25 percent bigger than lions today and was up to about 11.5 ft (3.5 m) long. This subspecies of lion lived in Europe (as far north as Denmark) until historical times; the last of these huge mammals lived until about 2,000 years ago in the Balkans (southeastern Europe). There are cave drawing of this huge feline. It probably hunted in a manner similar to that of today's lions.  
**MEGISTOTHERIUM**  
Megistotherium was a huge Hyaenodont (not a dinosaur, but an early, hyena-like mammal, a creodont) from the Miocene Epoch (about 24 million years ago). This meat-eater may have been a scavenger and/or an active hunter. Its skull was over 3 ft (1 m) long. Fossils have been found in northern Africa (Egypt and Libya). Megistotherium was named by Robert J. G. Savage in 1973.  


* * *

**Peaches**

I stared out the train's window, watching flurries of snow zip by. I still couldn't really believe this. This predicament I was in. That I, at eleven years old, on my first Reaping, out of all those children, would be the one to be called. Aliah, the mink, fidgeted a lot. She also chattered nervously, saying that this was all a dream and if she just waited long enough it would eventually come to an end. She was really jittery and kind of annoying.  
Annoying. The word caused a dull ache inside of me. Uncle Sid; my father had called him annoying. I missed my family a lot, already, and I knew I would never see them again because as I watched the children being reaped, I realized that I didn't stand a chance. And I started to cry.

I cried and cried and cried. I cried for so long that Zinnia scolded me, saying that I would end up with puffy eyes. Our mentor, Timur Petulanette, glared at us all. I thought he had issues, but would later realize why he seemed to hate everything. Because we were in a Head train, run by the people who watched us die for entertainment.

I stayed in my compartment after becoming thoroughly annoyed with Aliah and scared of Caesar. It seamed like Jeremy was the only pleasant one, but he locked himself in his apartment. I continued to watch the Reaping.

From Town One: A female brown weasel who looked like a killer, a female Dinictis, two male ferrets.

From Town Two: A female Megistotherium, a female Saber toothed tiger, a male wolf, a male wolverine.******  
**

From Town Three: A female sloth, A female beaver, a male bird-creature thing, and a male woolly rhino.

I got tired of paying attention and fiddled with the necklace Daddy had given me. He said a human had given to him. I was too sad and terrified to question that.

That's when Caesar came in with the other Offerings, suggesting we watch some tapes of the previous arenas to get an idea of what the Game-makers might surprise us with this year. There are only three on the train, but we skim through our resources.

The first one is labeled as the 47th Games, nearly twenty years ago. The tape is badly damaged and the footage in black and white. Some sort of desert that year. One girl is killed because she falls into a pit of quicksand or something.

The second one is labeled as the 49th Games. This is where Peaches saw a very familiar face.

Yes, indeed folks, this was the Game in which our beloved Buckminster had won.


	3. Nightmares

**Hey, so chapter** _tres._ **You know, as in three..?**

** I own nothing but my OC's...uhm...well...on with the show, I kinda hope you wont kill me for what happens next.  
**

* * *

_'Annie!' _The helpless cries echoed in Peaches' mind. The death of the little girl replayed over and over in her head, and Peaches wished she had never watched the videos, that she had never known what Buck had gone through. _'Annie, no!'_ Peaches shuddered. She could not go to sleep, for she feared she would never wake up.

The Arena was near the ocean that year, in the 49th Games. There was no beach, unless sharp rocks count. The Cornucopia was out 20 yards in the ocean, and the tributes were raised up out there as well. Buck and his sister, Annie survived together until the third day. The Archer and the Swordsman, skilled with knives. It had been a tragedy in the Head when the little girl had died; she had been oh-so-adorable to them. The Game-makers sent fog rolling in, a sort of greenish, unnatural fog. It killed everything in it's path except select few plants and mutation animals. Saltwater was the only way to be safe, but in the ocean, as the few living Offerings had found out, sea creatures flourished, all with one thing in mind:

Kill.

Buck grabbed a knife and dragged Annie across the rugged terrain, leading the half-asleep girl down a steep path carved into a cliff. They reached the water and dove under, escaping the fog for a few seconds. The two swam farther out to sea when it happened. No body had seen anything like it.

Ever.

It was like a frilled shark, iguana, angler fish, and cow morphed into a terrifying creation. _'Annie! Swim!' _Maybe it was the fog that was nearly upon them that made her reflexes slower, but it took her a minute to process what Buck had said. And by then it was too late. The mutation lunged. Buck reaches for a knife with lighting speed but was not fast enough. The water was filled with blood and the teen Offering clutched his dead sister and cursed, cried and then kissed her forehead and swam away.  
After that, Peaches left the room.


	4. Parade

**Chapter four.**

**i don't own Ice Age. Copyright 20th century fox.**

**Keep in mind that I didn't really want to actually write a whole story so the chapters won't be as good as in my other...better...works...ummmmmmmmmm...actually scratch that. i dont want to write THIS story, but i have to because i really want to write a catching fire/ ice age CROSSOVER**

**I hope you enjoy besides that!**

**I don't think I worded that correctly but oh well. The _Hunger games_ is owned by Suzanne Collins,_ not_ me!**

* * *

**Peaches**

My stylist is an expert. Ginger is a mastodon with style, and unlike previous years we are not fluffy cotton pieces but animals in clothes. Cotton clothes. For me, a shawl. I cannot even imagine how long it took our Town to pick this much cotton to make the article big enough to fit me, and tears spring into my eyes as my trunk runs over it. The fibers practically sing with memories of the cotton fields. Ginger dabs my eyes with a handkerchief, complaining I'll mess up the makeup he spent so long on, but I can tell he doesn't really mind and understands.

The makeup on us is similar, but different. For the girls, it is mostly pinks, but for all of us, our stylists have aimed to give us a rough look, like we had been working in the fields. I look so different in the ice mirror. My face, which I'll admit I had, once or twice, worried that it was too fat, looks elegant in a childish way. At least to me it does. To everyone else it probably looks like a face of a kid who is dirty but somehow pretty.

And then we are in the chariots propelled by steam, some fancy invention that Jeremy simply adored. I am told to smile and look happy and carefree, which given the circumstances, requires acting skills.

I think it's working, though, because the crowd is cheering so loudly it hurts my ears.

"I wish I could kill them all," I overhear the feminine feline from One say afterward. "Murder them, like they do to us." I shiver and stick with the other girl from Ten. She talks a lot, about the lights and how they hurt her eyes and how the makeup is absolutely terrible on the Offerings from Five and wow did I see the costumes on some of those kids because they were absolutely preposterous. I listen with one ear because I know I should enjoy her friendliness while it lasts because soon we will all be dead, but she is kind of annoying.

Her incessant yabbering lulls me to sleep, like Sid's. Oh, uncle Sidney how I miss you, I miss you all so much it hurts.

And I will never see you again.


	5. Interviews with the host

**Chapter Cinco!\**

**I own abseloutely NOTHING but my OC's! the characters and concepts are owned by eiher suzanne collins or 20th century fox!**

* * *

We sit in a row, awaiting the dreaded moment when we will be interviewed in front of the whole country. Aliah is called up, and I shift uncomfortably, sweating nervously.

Then I am standing in front of the audience with Edward Keating, the host of the Games. He asks me questions, how old are you, did you like the soup, stuff like that. All the while, I stare at his hair. I think he notices, because the raccoon pats his hair and asks if I like it, he's dyed it a new color this year:purple. I say that yes, purple looks good on him, but then again all colors seem to look good on him, and I wish that I had that gift. The audience laughs and so do we.

Afterwards I think on what I have seen, what I have done and said, and what is to come. Then I think about how a week ago I was wondering if my friend Margaret would prefer and orange or a lemon for Christmas, even though Christmas was so far away, and I would never get hold of either.

I start crying after this because I realize that my life will never be normal again.

In fact, my life won't be that long.

To think that I had plans on who I wanted to marry when I grew up.


	6. In the Arena: Before the Countdown

**Chapter 6**

**I own abseloutely NOTHING but my OC's! the characters and concepts are owned by eiher suzanne collins or 20th century fox!**

**I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed because that was...very nice *wipes tear***

**As I said before, lots of technology that was not invented until a long time later or some even invented yet as of now will be used in this fanfiction, seeing as it's part hunger games...**

* * *

I must have fallen asleep because I wake up to Zinnia's voice, telling me that this is the "Big, big day!"

I start crying because this is the day I will die.

Breakfast is quick, silent, and solemn. Our mentor gives us last minute advice and has a few glasses of wine. I guess he knows we're going to die and doesn't want to deal with the pain.

I start rushing through every hiding technique I know.

I can climb trees, at the training stations I learned how to throw and use a knife and how to disguise myself as a tree or rock using makeshift paints. If worst comes to worst I can always sit on my enemy and hope that they are a really tiny enemy. Being small for my age, it won't be as hard for me to hide as the other mammoth from Nine, who will either fight or die. I choose to flee.

Then we are awaiting the platform to rise. Ginger sees me off and wishes me off, telling me he believes in me.

I am slowly approaching the surface, the platform rising. I squint and try to make out my surroundings.

I can't believe my eyes. What is this? There are tall structures, taller than trees, like the ones in the Head, everywhere, only instead of gleaming they are falling apart. The air is filled with smog and rubble of things I have never seen anywhere but in the Head is strewn everywhere.

Well, I think, This is new.


	7. In the Arena: Post Countdown, first day

**Chapter 7 (part 1)**

**I own abseloutely NOTHING but my OC's! the characters and concepts are owned by eiher suzanne collins or 20th century fox! you know like things like Manny and Ellie and the cornucopia and the idea of the hunger games? I DON'T OWN 'EM!**

**I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed because that was...very nice *wipes tear***

**As I said before, lots of technology that was not invented until a long time later or some even invented yet as of now will be used in this fanfiction, seeing as it's part hunger games...**

* * *

"Four...Three...Two...One."

_Boom._

The Cannon blasts, nearly killing my ears. I run the the opposite direction of the graffiti-ed on Cornucopia, diving behind buildings (not literally) and finally, as a group of Careers begins to chase after me. I am breathing hard as I jump into a dumpster and close the lid behind me.

"Where'd she go?" I hear one of them say, his voice muffled. "T-this way, I think. I think..."

A cry almost escapes my mouth. It's Aliah. She betrayed me. Aliah, why? She was the closest thing I had to a friend out here, all alone.

All alone. Tears spring to my eyes and it's all I can do not to start sobbing. Even after they pass, I stay in there, my face wet. Finally, the smell of garbage pushes me out, my lungs longing for fresh air.

I make a run for one of the buildings; it looks empty and there is nobody surrounding it.

I creep in (yeah, I may be the only mammoth capable of doing that) through the doorway and up the steps. I only go the the second floor because then I am away from the entrance but there's still a tiny chance of my surviving if the need to jump out the window should arise.

I am just about to settle down for the night, maybe my last, when someone emerges from the shadows. I feel the cold touch of steel pressed against my throat as they growl.

"Get out of here before I kill you."


	8. Meanwhile, Outside the Arena: Rochelle

**Chapter 7 (part 2)**

**Again, nothing owned at all except my OC's, and even then my ownership is questionable because they are being used ina story not owned by just one person/company, but TWO**

**Susanne Collins AND blue sky studios/2oth !**

**WHOA SO COMPLICATED**

**anyway in this chapter we'll be taking a look at the herd and what they're going through, specifically Buck...Now don't hate me for this...When I possibly maybe perhaps get around to writing the Catching Fire/Ice Age story it'll probably make more sense than if I didn't...you'll see why. Eventually. For now just...enjoy the break from the Arena. Pfft, course I didn't write this because I had trouble writing about the arena...where'd you get THAT idea...*shuffles uncomfortably* **

**PS**

**Rochelle means 'little rock' and I think you can guess what Marina means if she's from District Four.**

* * *

The past few weeks were hard for the herd, and with Peaches in the Arena now, it was even worse.

Added to this, the only victor whom the herd personally knew had left; where to, they had no idea.

So basically, Manny and Ellie were without a daughter, watching her fight to the death or die, and without a friend who might be able to help them get through this time better than others, due to his past experiences.

Not a very pleasant situation.

It was hard for Sid, too, who had been so enthusiastic about being an uncle.

And Diego felt like cursing and blowing up when Peaches had hidden in a _ dumpster_ for three hours. _Three hours!_ She would starve if she continued on like this! It was unbelievable!

Crash and Eddie were under a lot of pressure,too, dealing with their sister and the approaching death of their niece as well as Buck's disappearance.

* * *

Now, for Buck.

Where was he? It hadn't occurred to the herd (it later would) that it was illegal for citizens of other Towns to stay in other Towns for over two weeks, and Buck had most certainly done so. But at the very least, he could have said goodbye, couldn't he? (A note left on the kitchen table didn't really count.)

The weasel felt guilt tug at him as he hopped onto the back of a train, ticket-less. But he had to leave, especially now after he'd seen the other children who had been Reaped. Pain stabbed at his chest upon thinking about this. The children. Two children he knew and loved Reaped in the same year, one of which pretty much had no chance of winning. Impossible.

The night air blew back his fur from his perch on the roof. He briefly thought of heading to One,but dismissed the thought.

Getting to Four unseen and unheard of was more important.

It was a non-stop train, and one of the faster ones, as well, so the train reached the destination by the next night. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, but he ignored it for the moment. Silently, he hopped off the vehicle and slipped silently through the streets, the sound of the surf crashing against the shore getting louder with each footstep. Finally, he reaches the house.

The buildings in Town Four were colorful, made of painted driftwood, with sea shells and smooth, colored glass hung on strings decorating them. The housed were also elevated in case of tsunamis/hurricanes, something Buck loved and hated. He loved it because they were fun the climb and hated it because they creaked when one did so. However, in the past few years of not daring to enter the Town, for fear of _their _ safety, he had perfected his stealth walk (thanks to the dinosaurs). Now, he swung onto the catwalk and in through the window silently...Or almost. The window emitted a slight squeak, and he froze, but no danger was present.

He landed on the soft carpet in a crouching position, like a ninja, while inhaling the scent of seaweed, salt, and sun he had missed so much. The silence was broken by a small muffled cry, which then proceeded to turn into crying, and then sobbing, and then bitter weeping in a matter of seconds.

Buck made his way to the sound, his eyes lingering on photos of the mother and daughter who lived here. _It's been so long,_ he thought. _What if she doesn't remember me?_

He crept into the family room, where a woman lay weeping on the floor, her back against a couch woven of sea grass, the Games playing on the TV in front of her, on mute.

"Marina?" He whispered, not daring to approach her. The she-weasel lifted her head, peeking through her fingers. "Marina?" Buck repeated, "Marina, it's me."

Marina's hands dropped, her sea-green eyes red from crying. Shakily, she stood up.  
A flood of emotions swept through her, from fear to anger to disbelief, and finally, to love.

"Buck," she said softly, tasting the word on her tongue. Marina rushed into his arms and nearly knocked him over. "I missed ya," Buck whispered, hugging her back," I missed ya a lot."

"I-I missed you too. And Rochelle-" She couldn't complete the sentence, her voice breaking. "Rochelle..."

He stroked her brownish-red hair softly, tears threatening to spill from his own eyes. "Shh, I know, love, I know..."

"They-They took her, Buck. Rochelle- my baby, they took her," she sobbed,"yours, too. Reaped-Buck, they Reaped our Rochelle."

* * *

**That last sentence sounded more awkward and unseemly than suspenseful and cliff-hang-y...Oh well. I don't know how else to say it.**


	9. In the Arena: Cheerios

**Chapter 8**

**copyright blue sky studios and suzanne collins**

**SO, just to clear things up a bit, i wanted to point out that that one sentence which gos soemthing like this**

**The houses in Four were elevated, in case of hurricanes, something Buck loved an hated.**

**I was talking about the houses...not the hurricane thingy**

**that's nother thing. i think in the last chapter i said capitol instead of head...please forgive me.**

**ALSO**

**Rochelle= buck and marina's kid...if you didn't figure that out already...how? when? why? This will be revealed all in good time, my friends...**

**This time, I promise to have better grammar and spelling. It bugs me when I go back and read stories of mine and they're full of mistakes...**

**HEY did you guys see Venus' transit in front of the sun? it won't happen for another century! I don't own cheerios. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Get out of here before I kill you."

I am terrified.

"Please- I don't know what to do- Please let me stay," I whimper.

"What's the use of allies if you eventually have to kill them?" This remark is muttered quietly, and the voice sounds mildly feminine, like a girl impersonating a man.

"I-I d-don't- we don't have to-to be a-al-allies."

There is silence, a long silence. The metal blade slowly but surely begins to remove itself from my neck.

"Make one sound and you're dead. Anything to give us away and I feed you to the Careers. Don't expect me to protect you. You're on your own. I let you stay, and live, under these terms."

"O-okay," I whisper, tears falling from my eyes.

I hear the sound of a blade being put back in it's sheath, and I rub my throat, relieved to find no blood.

The moonlight coming from the window illuminates the Offering's face, and I see that she is a girl. About fifteen or sixteen, with dark fur and greenish eyes, she is a weasel, I think.

We stare at each other for the longest time, her face expressionless. Finally, she turns and lays down, her back to me.

I can't resist. "What's your name?"

She turns her head. "Why do you need to know?"

I feel nervous again; undermined. "I...I'd just like know," I say in a small voice.

She sighs and is quiet.

"If you're still around tomorrow, maybe I'll tell you."

* * *

I don't sleep much, and the sun soon rises. The girl is gone.

So much for telling me her name.

I am startled when she comes in through the door, holding what looks like Head garbage. It's a paper box, on which it says "Cheerios." It's some sort of cereal, I think. She tosses the smashed box on the floor, then sits down herself.

Now, in the daylight, I can see her features better. Indeed, she is about fifteen, with light reddish brown fur, and sea-green eyes. At least, I think they are sea green, I've never seen the ocean, but I hear it's sort of a blue-ish green color. She is graceful, and every movement her slender body makes has little or no sound, so unlike my own clumsy movements.

"Good morning," she says amiably, opening the box of "Cheerios" and handing me some. I take them gratefully, curious about her change in demeanor.

"Thanks and good morning to you too."

"Rochelle. My name is Rochelle." She raises an eyebrow as she holds out her paw, indicating I should say mine.

"Um...My name is Peaches," I say, shaking her paw.

I can tell she's trying not to laugh when she says, "That's an interesting name."

I scowl. "So is Rochelle."

"I know, I know, there's no need to get your trunk all up in a knot."

Something about her just reminds me of Buck. I mean, she's way different- she's soft-spoken, and kind of mild-mannered, but...I don't know. Maybe it's just that last sentence she said that makes me think of him, after all, I barely know this girl. She must notice me staring because she stares back and cocks her head, prodding me to ask a question.

"So...what Town are you from?" I rise as she rises. She opens the closet door behind her, making a terrible creaking sound. Hurriedly, she grabs a blue and gray backpack out, stuff the food inside and reaches in, pulling out a long knife.

"I'm from Four. Just out of curiosity, do you have any weapons?"

"Um...no?"

She mumbles something under her breath. "How are you even alive still? Do you at least have weapon _experience_?"

"You don't really need weapons to pick cotton."

"Oh. Right. Town Ten. Sorry, I forgot. "

We make our way down the stairs in silence, and cautiously open the door. Upon seeing that the coast is clear, she makes a break for it, leaving me behind.


	10. In the Arena: Blood

**Chapter 8**

**I own nothing but my OC's! Sorry for the short chapters! I'll try to make 'em longer now!**

**So, here are the TOWNS AS FOLLOWS:**

**1: agriculture, equivalent of district 11 in the Hunger Games (copyright Suzanne Collins)**

**manufacturer (for the capitol, peacekeepers; guns and such)**

**3. Luxury items**

**4. Sea-food and such. Not too different from THG as far as numbers go**

**5. Metals/glass**

**6. electrical stuff**

**7 Lumber**

**8** stone** masonry**

**9 Coal**

**10. Cotton picking and weaving**

* * *

"Wait!" I cry, following. Her head turns a bit, but other than that I am ignored. I follow her through the streets, tripping over garbage and rubble and such as I go. She turns a corner, I do the same, but she is missing.

I stand there, confused, until someone jerks me behind a building with a grunt. They must be strong, not that they actually pulled me all the way, but it takes both Crash AND Eddie to push me so much a foot through the snow.

"Shh!" Is the quick command, presented by Rochelle. Terrified, I don't ask questions.

I hear laughter, the clomping of footsteps against cracked asphalt.

"Did you see how scared she was?"

"Ha! I bet she's dead already."

"Prolly didn't make it through the night."

"Nay, poor lass, I doubt it."

"Poor? Listen, O_ne, _we're in the arena, ya_ know_? You're with Careers, _yah_? Well, Careers can't afford teh have weaklin's with _us_," the leader growls.

"Hand me the knife- Stop struggling and I'll make it quick-"

"No, please, don't! I didn't- I didn't mean it!"

"Oh yah? Well, I don't mean this, either."

I hear the sickening sound of a knife being driven into flesh. I want to scream and cry and go home. I want to go home so badly. Home where Uncle Buck tells cool stories and Mom makes soup and Dad reprimands Sid and Buck for scaring me even though they don't, and Crash and Eddie annoy the crud out of Diego...

I catch myself about to let out a strangled cry. Had I not, I would have been killed.

Boom of cannon. Footsteps. Whispers.

Silence.

It is overwhelming. The silence pounds into my ears, the only thing to break it is the sound of Rochelle's breathing and my own.

It must be hours. In the distance there is another cannon boom, and I shudder.

Finally, a cry escapes me. A short cry that contains so much: the dead boy from Town One, Ailah's betrayal, being Reaped, homesickness, the longing for my parents, having had a knife pressed to my throat not twenty four hours ago, and more.

Oh so much more.

I miss the cotton fields, I miss the scabs on the end of my trunk from the thorns, I miss my friends, I miss my crazy, wild family.

Rochelle must know this, because instead of telling me to shush she squeezes my trunk, a reassuring squeeze that reminds me that I am not going through this alone. That a bunch of other kids are being killed away from home, away from family, away from friends. That I am not the only one being scarred for life; that she too heard the boy being killed.

That I have a frie- an ally.

Not a friend. An ally.

Allies are safe; friends are dangerous. Friends can manipulate you, betray you, stab you in the back. So can an ally, but it won't hurt as much.

At least I think so; I've heard as much.

Cautiously, she peers around the corner, motions for me to follow, and we walk through the streets in silence.

"Food?" I finally ask.

"No, water," she says.

"You can't live without water," she says quietly.

"You can't live without food, either."

"Hello? The cereal? That's gonna have to be enough."

"Oh."

The artificial sun is low in the sky before we find water. It's not natural water, it's in a plastic container. A very small plastic container; it can't hold more than half a pint of water.

"It's better than nothing," Rochelle points out when I get frustrated at our poor luck.

* * *

I have never witnessed someone killing another person. I have heard it from behind a building and seen the corpse with it's milky eyes and bloody chest, I have seen it on TV when the Games are showing, but I have never actually seen with my own two eyes the blood or whatever as it's happening.

The thought of having to witness it terrifies me, but I know sooner or later in this arena I will, be it my own or someone else's. Another terrifying thought is to have to kill someone.

To have blood on your hands.

To be a murderer for the rest of your life.

Rochelle is quiet, meek, mild, and polite but has witnessed many deaths. How can she not? She lives in Town Four, where they kill fish for a living.

I on the other hand can be very stubborn, disobedient, a little wild, loud and annoying and I usually enjoy having these qualities, I mean, look at who I live with. I gotta have those qualities to have any fun. However, with all of this I have never, ever witnessed someone dying before my very eyes.

Ever.

People keel over in the cotton fields all the time, but I never see them. When the cotton catches fire and someone dies, I never see them.

Nothing could prepare me for this.

Plants of all kinds are scattered throughout the abandoned city. Rochelle and I are hiding in a tall, thick tree inside a library when it happens.

Two wolves fight over territory and the larger one lunges and sinks his teeth into the other one's neck. I stare, horrified and scared. Rochelle clings to the tree, trembling. I realize that I too am shaking, and crying too. It begins to rain, and the library as no roof, so the other wolf leaves to find better shelter.

We stay hidden in the tree all night. I fall asleep and have terrible nightmares.

* * *

**More to come soon! Please review!**


	11. In the Arena: Mutts and Books

**Chapter 9**

**I'm trying to finish this for you!**

**I don't own ice age! Sorry for the shortness!**

* * *

My eyes crack open, revealing a world of books. I open them further and see that I am still hanging by my tail, and Rochelle is gone. My heart beats quickly. She can't have left me, how will I survive without her? Why do people keep leaving me?

"Well, I've never seen a mammoth sleep like that before."

I look down and see Rochelle sitting on a shelf high above the ground, a book open on her lap. Seeing me, she smiles to herself, then returns to the novel. I blush, then clamber down the tree onto a branch where I'm at eye level with her, almost sitting next to her.

"What's that?" I gesture to her book.

"A book," she cracks a smile.

"No, I mean what's it called."

"I don't know, it doesn't have a title. But it's quite interesting." I look up at her sea-green eyes. Something about this girl intrigues me, the way my uncles' stories do.

"What's it about?" Her eyes flicker up to mine, then back down.

"It's about a man," she says slowly, "who falls in love with a woman in the arena."

"Ooh, like forbidden love!"

"Yes, exactly like that. He falls in love with her, but he does something terrible that makes the Head hate him. And the girl does something rebellious, too. So the Game-makers try to kill them, but each time they evade the traps."

"Cool." There is silence for a while before Rochelle adds,

"It's a very dangerous book to read. I skipped to the end; they both die."

* * *

The artificial sun rises quicker than it should. A cannon booms within the first ten minutes. We almost get burned to death in a flash forest fire and almost drown in a flood. I was lucky enough to have uncle Sid teach me to swim in the nearby pond.

We're running through the streets, digging through garbage for medicine we might need, when we see them.

The mutts.

Rochelle pulls out a knife slowly when the scent of rotten eggs drifts through the air. A terrifying screech fills the air and I look up in time to duck.

But Rochelle isn't so lucky.


	12. Inside and Outside the Arena

**Chapter 10**

**I'm trying to finish this for you! I nearly quit, and I would have had it not been for you guys!**

**I don't own ice age! I don't own the hunger games, either!**

**Constructive criticism welcome!**

* * *

The mutant eagle swoops down and knocks her off her feet. Another one dives for her, it's freakishly long beak about to skewer her. Rochelle amazes me. Quick as lightning, she rolls over and slices the bird's tough wing with her knife. It's too thick to cause any serious damage, but I see blood.

"Run!" she shouts, and I don't need to be told twice. My heart pounds as we race through the streets, death on our tails. A terrifying screech fills the air and I feel something rake my back. For a second, I am lifted off the ground. And then I plummet back to earth. Blood spatters the side walk as the wounded bird flies away, taking Rochelle's knife, embedded in it's stomach, away.

We keep running until Rochelle kicks open the basement door of a storage building and we tumble inside. Or at least I do, Rochelle lands on her feet.

"Let me see your back," she says as soon as she regains her breath. I do as I am told.

"It's deep," she mumbles. She rummages through the backpack, pulling out a bottle of something we found in one of the dumpsters, as well as some dusty bandages and the bottle of water.

"Don't waste the water on me," I whisper, fatigue washing over me.

"I'm not wasting it." Something stings my back and I cry out.

"Shh, hold still." She applies the bandage and gives each of us some water.

"Thank you," I whisper.

She smiles.

* * *

**Outside the Arena: Town Four**

****I haven't spoken much about the herd lately, any of the members. The rest of them will make an appearance later, so don't you fret. But for now, let's take a peek at how Buck is doing, shall we?

The two weasels sat at the kitchen table, the morning sunlight seeping in through the various windows. The sea-glass chimes on the porch tinkled merrily despite the fear inside the home.

Marina was the first to speak. "Buck, I know you're scared, and I am too, but...Please, stay," she begged, clutching his hand. "Don't leave me again."

Buck mentally flinched. _Don't leave me again._ He _had_ left her, hadn't he? Completely. Gone without a trace; he even stopped writing after he'd received a letter from the Head saying his letters wouldn't be delivered. He had stopped sneaking in at the holidays, not even visiting for birthdays after he'd been whipped at the stake a second time and Marina's life had been threatened.

_You left for a good reason._

__"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'll stay a while longer."

Marina squeezed his hand and studied him.

"You changed," she said at last. His eye met hers.

"How?" She squinted a little.

"For one thing, your eye." Buck grinned a bit. He'd have to tell her the story sometime.

"And...You're braver. Also...a little...a little crazier," she cracked a smile, lightly punching him in the arm.

"And a heck of a lot quieter."

"Hey," he said indignantly,"You're not all there, either."

"It wasn't an insult, you big dolt," she laughed, pushing him a little.

"I'm the big dolt?" he asked, teasing her. He pushed her back, a little harder by accident.

"Yes, you," she laughed, pushing him so hard he fell out of his chair. Buck grabbed Marina's chair and she tumbled out, too. The two of them laughed, a delight not felt in weeks. After their laughter died down, Buck asked with a hint of concern,

"Are ya all right?" She turned to face him, her hair falling and covering one eye in a flattering way.

"Yeah. You?"

"Aye...mostly." The happiness was sucked out of the air as they both turned to the TV.

Rochelle and Peaches and mutts. Of all the combinations...This was Buck's least favorite.


	13. In the Arena: To eat or not to eat

**Chapter 11**

**Hunger games (c) Suzanne Collins and whoever made the movie; Ice Age (c) 20th century fox**

* * *

**Rochelle**

****Peaches drifts off to sleep again while I stay awake. I bury my head in my hands. This is all too real, too much, too soon. I don't even know why I'm helping this girl, not really. I sigh, scolding myself. Of course I know why I'm helping her. I'm just too ashamed to admit it.

Because I'm using her.

I console myself with the thought that while I may be using her innocence and cute looks, she's using everything else I have: food, water, hunting skills, my training. As if to add to this, she's putting me into lots of danger. This kid doesn't know when to stop talking. Soon she might talk me into revealing things, things that are best kept secret from everyone and things that would get me, my mother, and my ever absent father killed if the Head ever heard these things on live television.

They already know, at least the older citizens do, seeing as...

Well, it's best not to think about these things. Right now, I have to think about survival. I jerk my head up at the sound of something rustling just outside the opening of our hide-out. I see something gray, metallic, and shiny. Cautiously I crawl up and reach for the foil covered sponsor's gift. I bring it back in with me, then untie the black parachute and daintily rip open the foil.

Bread, two small rolls. t first I think it's from Town Four, but then I freeze.

The seeds, the grains- this is from Town One.

I don't know whether to take it, eat it, or throw it away. This could be a trap, a set up. I could die depending on my decision. I weigh the odds.

Starve in the arena while getting attacked by mutant birds, or get attacked by mutant birds after eating some bread. If I take this bread the Head might try to do whatever they can to kill me.

"Food is food," I say quietly.

I bite into the still warm bun, hiding pleasure behind a mask of seriousness.  
The world can never know.


	14. A peep a Peaches and a peep at the herd

**Chapter 12**

**Hunger games (c) Suzanne Collins and whoever made the movie; Ice Age (c) 20th century fox**

**Thanks For reviewing! Please keep doing so! Sorry for the short chapters, guys!**

* * *

**Peaches**

"Thanks for the bread, Rochelle!" I chirp, munching hungrily on the grainy bread the next day.

"Don't thank me," she mumbles. How uncharacteristic of her, I think.

"So what now?" I ask, the cheeriness fading away.

Rochelle bites her lip. "Well, we _could_ stay here and slowly starve to death or we could go out there, keep looking for food and water and get killed by either the arena itself or another tribute. You pick."

I stare at her, it's not much of a choice. "Um...Well...it's kind of cold at night in here, but you know...Out there everybody's trying to...To kill each other..."

I look up at her and smile sheepishly, "Can you decide?"

* * *

One hour later, I'm sitting down in the same spot in the basement, mentally complaining about the pain in my back.

Oh, I hate the Hunger Games.

* * *

**Town Ten: The herd**

"PEACHES! WHY DON'T THEY DO SOMETHING?" screamed Manny as he watched his little girl get attacked by mutant eagles on live television.

"Who? Who Manny? Who in the Head really cares about Peaches? They took her there to watch her _die_," yelled Diego, promptly shutting Manny up.

"On television," pointed out Crash morbidly.

Ellie began to weep, and not for the first time.

Sid, for once, was silent, watching the TV with a growing sense of loss. His eyes locked on Rochelle, the teenager who was helping Peaches as she cautiously unwrapped the sponsor's gift.

Suddenly he was struck by a sense of utter confusion. Wasn't she from Town Four? Why was she receiving bread from Town One?

Sid made a joke, a joke that he kept to himself to help lighten the depression inside of him.

Wouldn't it be funny if this girl was related to Buck?

Oh, Sidney, my boy. You _are_ quite the jokester, aren't you?

* * *

**Peaches**

I don't like it that Rochelle left me here, all alone in this basement to look for water. It's dark, damp, dank, and oh-so-darn creepy. And with each minute that passes, my fears grow.

Will Rochelle desert me? What if something happens to her? What will happen to me? What if something lurks in the darkness beyond the light that streams through the cracks in the basement door?

But I constantly console myself that she promised not to go far, and she hasn't been gone for very long, and at least she skimmed through a brief lesson of how to wield a knife- not that I know enough to save my life or anything.

I sigh and recount the number of Cheerios left in the box while I wish for more bread, for water, for home.

I jump as something lands with a hard thunk on the door, and I listen, terrified, as I hear it roll down the wood. I catch a glimpse of something gray and metallic.

A sponsor.


	15. Gollum, gollum, my preciousss

**Chapter 13**

**Hunger Games (c) Suzanne Collins**

**Ice Age Copyright Blue Sky Studios**

Peaches grabbed it and tore it open, thanking whatever Town had sent this to her.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she murmured.

A can of grains, dried berries and at the bottom a thin emergency cotton blanket. Home, home, home sweet home all wrapped up in silver. Peaches greedily ate some dried cranberries and forced herself to save the rest for later. Peering at the bottom of the can and pulling out the blanket, she also found a thin tube of hydrogen peroxide- perfect for cleaning wounds. She loved home, she loved it, she loved it, she loved it. Peaches also missed it terribly. So much she just wanted to crawl in a hole and teleport herself back home. Maybe she could rub a lamp and a genie would grant her a wish. Ha, and maybe humans would rule the earth.

Stupid.

But she had to win. Maybe with Rochelle, she could have a chance. A slim one, but a chance nonetheless.

* * *

Meanwhile, Rochelle raided a refrigerator stuffed with cabbage and cheese. She searched high and low for weapons and retrieved a beautiful, gem encrusted...tiara. Did people in the Head really have nothing better to do than play with tiaras? she thought disgustedly. She shook the thought away: no use thinking like that. Focus on the task at hand. She sighed and decided to go back to camp; check on Peaches. She froze at the sound of a door creaking.

"Here, little pigs. The big bad wolf is coming to get you," a menacing voice said hoarsely in an inhuman way (not that he should speak humanly...unless he was human).

Rochelle stuffed the cheese in her pack and gingerly clutched a cabbage in one hand. In her dominate left hand, she clutched a knife. She tiptoed silently into an adjoining room and slunk behind a couch. Peeking out from behind, she saw what had to be the most hideous creature she'd ever come face to face with. Mutant, of course. Designed by the game makers. She bit her lip and drew blood in an effort not to scream.

White, pale, half open mauled eyes, pink nose, deadly long sharp teeth. Black saliva dripped from its mouth, and a thin, long tongue protruded from between teeth. Large claws that could kill her with only half of a swipe. In the shape of a wolf with the odd tuft of mangy fur.

She was dead meat- the thing would be able to sniff her out unless she formulated a plan within seconds.

It sniffed. "Opossum? Little opossum? Could it be?" _Yesss, my preciousss. _For once a mutant does something in her favor.

"No, I smell a little...mink. Are you a mink, my darling?" _Gollum, gollum_. So close, and yet so far. Pretty soon he'd start speaking rhymes- Rochelle bet the entire cabbage on that.

"Weasel," it hissed, "I smell a thieving little weasel from Town One. I smell fear. I smell the ocean; so you must be from Town Four. Fear me, and I'll make your death painless and quick."

What made her plan so unnerving was that this creature could think. That was Rochelle's final thought before it found her.


	16. Fire (important AN)

**Chapter 16**

**Important A/N:**

**OH MY GOSH I AM SO SORRY**

_**Guys, I posted the chapter for a different story. That was supposed to be chapter 10 for Swift. I am soooo sorry! Someone pointed it out, and shoot, I deleted the original chapter that was about Peaches running...**_

**Holy crap! I have to write it all over again! Well, this gives me a chance to change the plot a little...**

**NOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooo**

**I own nothing.**

* * *

Rochelle shot out from her hiding place, her back arcing and the knife slicing through the air before it came into contact with the mutant. It screamed and clawed at her. Rochelle sucked in her breath as poison tipped claws raked her back. She darted out as fast as she could, the wounds burning.

Rochelle dashed blindly through the streets, blood dripping onto the cobble stone sidewalk.

It was after her. It was going to kill her. She dashed down an alley, scrambled over a fence (more scratches on her belly) and fled towards-

Suddenly the ground opened up beneath her. She fell, and above her she heard a deafening explosion. Flames licked at the last shred of light in her vision.

Darkness.

Screaming.

-.-.-.-.-

Peaches heard a scream. The ground started to shake and there was a sound akin to a bomb exploding next to her ear. Terrified of being buried alive, Peaches grabbed the sliver package and ran towards the barren field.

Flames licked up and down the streets. On the edge of the horizon there was the shape of trees. Just beyond the end of the city, she could make out scattered shelters in the field. It could be a trap, it could be a minefield, but at the current moment, all she cared about was not catching fire or falling into the gaping chasm that was eating up the city from the inside out.

Something hit the side of her head. Blood ran down her face as she got up and ran, now screaming towards what looked like safety. The streets glowed orange as flames sprouted up, eating away at everything, forever hungry.

She ran and ran, dodged another opponent running in the opposite direction, screaming someone's name and waving an axe. Peaches started crying, but didn't dare slow down. She sped up.

Terrified. Running. Alone. Hungry.

She made it to the field and did not stop until the smell of smoke stop choking her, until dawn blazed on the simulated horizon, until she collapsed.

-.-.-.-.-..-

Rochelle woke up to darkness. She could hear it in the silence, in the slow drip-dripping of water. She could feel it in the cold stone beneath her. She could see it. It was all she could see.

She couldn't move. Her back ached. Her torso burned. It was hard to breathe.

'This must be what it's like to die,' she thought.

Her eyelids fluttered shut- butterfly wings coming to a cold, dead stop.

Drip.

Drip.

"Help," she croaked.

Silence.

"Help."

Rochelle wouldn't let them break her this easily. She closed her eyes and slept.

Her plan was simple: conserve energy.

Her shallow breaths could not be heard.


	17. Candlelight and Sunburn

**Chapter 17**

**I own nothing. Sor****ry if this is getting a little scary. Thanks people who reviewed, you know who you are! Have a cookie!**

**Let me know what you think in the reviews! It a two way street: chapters for reviews, reviews for chapters.**

Rochelle felt something land by her paw. She knew by the quiet _clink_ it made that it was a sponsor.

Oh, thank God.

Weakly and painfully, she scrabbled at the paper. In the dark, her nimble fingers recognized each item. Candle. Matches. A can of something.

"Thank you," she choked out. With stiff arms that took all of her energy to move, she struck the match and lit the candle. She loved the fizzing sound it made. At home when she was little, she used to light candles on the dock the night before the Victory Tour with the other little ones.

Tendrils of smoke rose up. The flame danced. The candle didn't light much, but she could tell that the ground was made of sandstone. She read the label on the tub, opened it, and struggled to reach her back. She covered most of the scratches generously with the ointment, but was unable to reach the one in the middle. Oh well.

Now, to find a way back to the land of killing.

* * *

The sun beat down harshly on Peaches. Back home, Ellie worriedly commented on sunburn. Cicadas buzzed nearby. The harsh truth struck the poor tween:

she

was

going to

die.

Alone. Here. On television. With her parents and family watching as she became a pathetic tribute to live entertainment, soon to be forgotten.

Something inside her heart snapped at that moment.

No.

Peaches was not going to die yet. Not without a fight, without having tried, without having stood on her own. Peaches was not going to be a weakling, THE weakling in her family of adventurers.

She was sure that it was Rochelle who had screamed. Peaches owed Rochelle her life many times over. It was her turn to save the day.

The small mammoth tiredly pulled herself up and dragged herself beneath the meager shade of a rock. She listened and checked to see if there was someone behind the rock. No one. Peaches climbed the rock and rationed some bread.

So, where was she going? She saw the city, burned and ugly in the distance. She also saw the risk she'd taken by traveling out in the open. She could envision Diego banging his head against the wall at her stupidity.

Peaches skirted around to the edge of the field and began the trek with the protection of trees.

It was creepy in the forest. Insects made sounds that she couldn't recognize, causing her to jerk around and twitch her ears constantly. She heard leaves crunch, and made a frighteningly fast beeline into a nearby canopy. She silently thanked her Uncles Crash and Eddie.

Crunch, crunch, crunch. The female wolf carelessly traversed through the woods. Peaches grinned.

She was safe and sound for the moment.

After a half hour the woods were as quiet as they were going to get, and the tired mastodon quietly lowered herself.

She hiked quickly now, determination fueling her strides. She _would_ save Rochelle, she _would_ go home, she _would_ live. Even if it meant acting frail and weak for the other tributes...until she fought back in self defense.


	18. I will Survive

**Chapter 18 **

I'm sorry I'm so bad at updating regularly. This goes for ALL my stories. I know I've lost a lot of fans because of this, and for those of you still hanging in, I'm sorry.

**A/N: **I have no idea where this story is going. I only know who will and who will not make it through the Games.** Other than that, your reviews aren't just for 'Update soon's'. Offer ideas! I'm just kind of rambling and this story will go nowhere for a while...I know you guys are Hunger Games fans, so offer up some ideas please! Anything to help move this along for another chapter.**

**I own only my OC's. **

* * *

A twisted figure, bent over painfully and limping, slowly made its way through the vast, dark corridors. Bathed in a soft light, Rochelle made her way through the pit. She tried not to think what the black slime that now coated the ground was. It smelled terrible. She had no idea how to get out of here, but she had a gut feeling to go North.

If she was even going North. It could have been East. Or West. Or heck, even South.

Every step was a pain, but Rochelle forced herself to take as much caution and care in her steps as she had before her injury. Sounds that chilled her to the bone echoed from places she couldn't pinpoint. Surrounding her was dark, endless and foreboding.

* * *

Peaches crept through the forest. Then she heard it. Singing softly.

It was an eerie voice, spooky, but familiar nonetheless. Whoever it was sang a song of sorrow, of lovers being torn apart, of children being lost forever. It was a girl singing it. Peaches couldn't believe her ears.

She tiptoed into a clearing. (Shut your comments about tip-toeing mammoths, okay? We get it already- they're not supposed to fit in trains or tiptoe or talk or sit in chairs or hold forks. This. Is. Fiction. So stop complaining about accuracy!) In the middle there was a stone. A small stone. On it sat a small figure. Peaches wanted to grin, wanted to run up and hug her, but she'd had seen a lot in the past few weeks.

The song crescendo-ed. Now it was about a distrustful friend...About leaving someone you cared for at the hands of robbers. Peaches choked on her own saliva quietly, coughing into her trunk.

The figure turned around.

The song ended.

Rochelle grinned. "Why, Peaches, it is so lovely to see you again," she said in that meek voice of hers. One word came into Peaches' mind: innocence.

Peaches looked at her skeptically. Was it really Rochelle? The eyes were different, somehow...

"Peaches," Rochelle looked hurt, "I said it was lovely to see you again."

Peaches stuttered, alarms going off as she continued discreetly examining the eyes. "I-it's great to-to see you too."

Rochelle appeared to be waiting for something.

"Where were you?" asked Peaches in a hesitant voice.

Rochelle was gone.

* * *

Hours passed, but still the small weasel trudged on. Rochelle would not die a pawn on a checkerboard. The ground was wet, now, but not with slime, with...

Water?

She heard a lapping sound. It smelled salty. Rochelle continued, suspicious. It was brighter now, but misty. The breeze extinguished her candle. A familiar voice, loving and tender, hummed an old tune. Rochelle drew her knife but tried to keep walking casually.

This wasn't real.

"Rochelle!" She kept walking. The voice wasn't real. It was all fake. "Honey!" Rochelle began to run.

She kicked up wet sand, but as she ran , things became fuzzier. She could see the beetles, they looked like dung beetles crossed with cicadas, crawling here and there, causing the illusions. She dropped onto her forepaws and sprinted.

"Rochelle, come back!" cried Marina desperately.

But Rochelle blocked out the sound. No. No. No.

She would not fall victim...She would not fall victim...

Someone grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around roughly. She stared into deep blue eyes that seemed to pierce her soul. They stared at her, full of cruel intentions, but the facial expression was that of a loving...

"Oh my God," she sobbed.

"It's real," said the...the mutant. It wasn't him. No, no, no.

"It's real!" it began screeching in a...feminine voice? The illusion cracked for a second. It was the mink from Peaches' district. She was terrified. Seeing her own life, Game-ified.

Oh, well, thought Rochelle. Deep inside, something told her to help, but she knew this mink was a traitor.

Survival of the fittest.

The minks face would haunt her forever, she knew.

If she lived.

* * *

**I realize now that this story has become rather dark. Don't worry, there are victories on the horizon...If you can lend me suggestions on further battles. Keep in mind I'm trying to draw a character personality arc for both Peaches and Rochelle: before, meek and mild (Rochelle) or innocent (Peaches) and after...You'll see how they grow. **

**If there is an after. I'm still not sure. Review! Tips? tell me!**


	19. Who Remains? Who Will Survive? Find out

**Chapter 19**

**A/N: This chapter is the list of surviving tributes as of Chapter 18, because Rochelle and Peaches are unreliable and will not tell you. **

**Peaches: Hey... :(**

**Me: Shhhhh, it's okay.**

**Also, this chapter is not MANDATORY, but it is Highly Recommended. With a capital H and R.**

* * *

I stayed in my compartment after becoming thoroughly annoyed with Aliah and scared of Caesar. It seamed like Jeremy was the only pleasant one, but he locked himself in his apartment. I continued to watch the Reaping.

Town One: The female brown weasel and Dinictis mentioned in a previous chapter.

The two male ferrets suffocated in an airtight elevator that broke down between floors.

Town Two: The male wolverine, the male wolf, and the female Saber mentioned in a previous chapter.

The female Megistotherium didn't last long.

Town Three: The male wooly rhino (previous chapter).

The sloth was too slow, the beaver too arrogant, and the bird thing tripped and fell out of a first story window. The rest is history.

Town Four: Rochelle and Caspian (no, Caspian is not from Narnia!), an oversized (height-wise) male muskrat. Think tall, dark, and handsome.

Town Five: ...

Town Six:The first two were electrocuted by faulty sockets in a building and the last two didn't make it through the second-to-last chapter.

Town Seven: One Angry woodchuck and a buff sloth teamed up. Watch out, Peaches.

Town Eight: Zero.

Town Nine: Nope.

Town Ten: Caesar's out for blood, Peaches is obviously still alive, Aliah not for long, and Jeremy...Well I don't have the heart to get rid of him just yet. I really don't like getting rid of my Town Ten tributes. Except Aliah. She betrayed Peaches...She should drown in tres leches cake!


End file.
